


Pass All The Irrational Decisions

by DefaltManifesto



Series: Kiss The Sky [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Character Study, Cheating, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Infidelity, Post-Coital Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 08:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12077526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: “Do you ever look in the mirror and not recognize who’s looking back at you?”





	Pass All The Irrational Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> So I've had this verse from Machine Gun Kelly's Kiss The Sky rattling around in my brain for a few weeks now and wanted to write a fic inspired by it. And I couldn't decide on a fandom. So instead I'm doing a whole bunch of fandoms I don't dabble in that often all centered around the general theme of: Conversations you have lying on top of someone, or someone lying on top of you. 
> 
> Title from Kiss The Sky by Machine Gun Kelly. 
> 
> This is the darker interpretation - refusing to change negative behavior despite knowing you're hurting the one you love.

[The tumblr](http://schizzar.tumblr.com)

 

Owen blows smoke out of his mouth in a slow stream and watches it rise part way to the ceiling before drifting out the window he’d cracked open hours ago. Gwen reaches up and takes the cigarette from him, taking a quick drag before stretching out over him to tap the ash in the ashtray on the bedside table. He looks down at her when he takes the cigarette back and almost flinches when she meets his eyes. In all honesty, he hadn’t expected her to stay. He expected the guilt of what they’d done to overwhelm her and send her flying out the door.

Then, he’d thought she’d pass out when he dug that bullet out of her side. Gwen seemed to live for defying all expectations, especially the ones men placed on her.

He looks back up at the ceiling and takes another drag, but his nonchalance is betrayed by the frantic beat of his heart beneath Gwen’s ear. She doesn’t mock him for it even though she’d be justified in doing so. Instead, she traces a circle around his nipple with her finger and begins to speak.

“Do you ever look in the mirror and not recognize who’s looking back at you?” she asks.

Owen almost drops the cigarette on the bed, surprised by the way the words cut straight through him to dig out his greatest fear – not that she could possibly know that. He sets the cigarette in the ashtray and blows the smoke out his nose.

“What is this, therapy?” The hostility in his voice sounds fake even to his own ears.

Gwen smiles against his chest. “We can stick to angry sex if you want, but we both know you’d be lying if you said we don’t have similar problems.”

Owen feels his lips twist into something close to a snarl. “Torchwood, the great unifier.”

“So. Do you?” Gwen presses.

"Who I was before Torchwood wouldn’t recognize me now,” Owen says. He lets his arm come down to rest along the line of Gwen’s shoulders. “But even without Torchwood, I wasn’t going to be who I was then. Life had already changed things on its own.”

It’s more than he means to say. He only trusts Gwen to have his back in the field the way he trusts every member of Torchwood to; which is not much at all. The sting of Suzie’s betrayal hasn’t eased with time, not really. It doesn’t help that Jack continues to refuse to give them more than what he’s deemed necessary as far as information went both on himself and the rest of the alien world. Trust in Torchwood was built not on truth, but on carefully maintained lies.

“Does it scare you?” Gwen asks. “Not recognizing yourself?”

“Sometimes. Not for long though. That’s what alcohol and meaningless sex is for,” Owen says.

“You give a much more honest job description than Jack did,” Gwen says with a short laugh. Her arm slides over his chest to curl loosely around his ribcage.

“I don’t think Jack remembers what life is like outside this,” Owen says. “This _is_ his normal.” He takes a deep breath and then squeezes her shoulder. “So what, you scared of your own reflection now?”

Gwen shifts, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him. “Terrified. Look at me. I’m in bed with you.”

“Wow thanks,” Owen says, lips quirking up in a smirk.

“I meant that generally,” she says, turning her face to ret her cheek against his chest once more. “I never thought I’d cheat. This job has turned me into someone I hate, but it’s my own fault for not being strong enough.”

Owen waits for her to continue, to blame him for her own transgressions, but she defies him again and doesn’t elaborate any further.

“So, are we going to stop then?” he asks.

“God no,” Gwen says. “If I go home with all that anger and energy, I’d do something I regret far more than this. It’s better this way.  You can take it.”

 _And Rhys can’t._  Gwen doesn’t need to say it. He knows it to be true. The marks on his back and chest from her nails carving into him as she fucked her way back to mental stability spoke to that just fine on their own. Rhys is nice, nice the way Owen used to be. Nice people couldn’t handle Torchwood, not really. You needed a special sort of cruelty, and that went for Gwen too even though they all fancied her to be the heart of the team.

“It won’t last,” he says, partially to be cruel and partially to dispel the uncomfortable feeling growing in his chest.

“Us or me and Rhys?” Gwen asks. Her usual defensiveness is nowhere to be found.

“Both,” Owen says, keeping his gaze on the ceiling.

“Rhys and I will,” she says. “If push comes to shove, I’d leave for him.” _And leave you in the dirt._

Owen laughs. “No you won’t. That’s how addiction works. You’ll keep picking the poison no matter how much of a wedge it drives between you and the ones you love. If you don’t think that’s true, just watch some day time television.”

“Maybe you’re right then.” She moves, placing her hands on his chest and pushing herself upright so she’s sitting on his lap. “Maybe one day I’ll look in the mirror and see you staring back at me, and just like you I’ll drown it out with booze and sex with any guy who looks at me longer than a few seconds, and fuck up any bit of chance I could have at happiness or normalcy.”

The words don’t hurt – Owen knows his life better than she does and there’s nothing she can say that he hasn’t told himself a million times over already. He cradles her hips in his hands, holding her still so he can grind up against the slick, wet heat between her thighs and watches as she bites her already swollen lower lip to swallow a gasp at the feeling.

“You should leave before that happens to you,” he says, voice steady even as his cock hardens.

"I probably should,” she says.

She doesn’t.


End file.
